Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Easy Way Out?

Recently The Skeptical Mother
posted a photograph on Facebook of a young woman with her newly-born
daughter. Though I haven't been able to confirm the story, the photo was
posted under the description that it was taken moments before the baby
was placed into the arms of an adoptive family. And though someone accused the story of being a fake, and probably the "agenda of pro-lifers", I find that assumption kind of silly since, photo or no photo, birthmothers exist, and that moment before the child is handed to the adoptive parents is a very real one.
Thousands of
likes and comments ensued and I tried to keep up, scanning for negative
remarks before they were thankfully deleted by the host. It's always
amazing to me to see the things people find necessary to say, but I only
want to focus on one comment for today (though I really would like to
gather up common negative attitudes and misconceptions so that I could
address them here).

"Way easier to give up than brave the adversity" and hints of the birth mother "taking the easy way out" stuck out to me.

Though
it's very easy to react out of pain and hurt, something important we
should remember when addressing those who are critical is to have
compassion; it's the very thing we wish they would show, so it doesn't
make much sense to stoop to their level with anger and sarcasm.

From
the outsider's point of view, I can see what would make someone jump to
this conclusion: black-and-white, shallow thinking. One route requires
raising a baby and the other doesn't, therefore choosing the second
route must be inherently easier.

I'll
have to say that it wasn't what would be easiest for me that prompted me
to make my decision. Like I've said, we planned on parenting for seven
months, and the one time we seriously sat down to consider adoption
before that, we both felt physically ill and discontinued the
conversation.

Adoption did not seem easy or appealing. It was
gut-wrenching and the opposite of what we wanted. The thought of going
on alone after the birth of our child was too much for our hearts to bear at that time.

But
time went on and I started looking at everything as a mother, with
consideration of my son. Our relationship was deteriorating ...what
effect would this have on our son? We were living paycheck to paycheck,
and disagreed on how to spend or save our money, how would we afford a
child? Our families were completely at odds and full of drama and
disdain, what would this environment do to a growing, impressionable
child? What about the fights? The drinking? Abuse? Screaming? Broken
lamps and holes in the walls? Irresponsibility? Distrust? Depression?
Lack of goals in life? Selfishness? Immaturity?

How could we take the easy way out and do what we wanted, instead of what this baby needed?

So, what did that mean for me after I became a birthmother?
I changed forever. I didn't completely mature overnight, but I wasn't the same teenager ever again.

Going
home without a child is not the same as never having a child or never
being pregnant; your mind and heart are
forever affected and unfortunately the "out of sight, out of mind" rule doesn't apply. For the first couple of years (for me, at least)
that's almost all you can think about, dream about. It's lonely and
painful. It's depressing and sometimes embarrassing. Personally, I was
left longing to have children; it became my goal in life, whereas before
becoming pregnant, I hadn't given thought to being a mother. There's
the decision of when to tell someone you're interested in dating,
whether to shed light on your odd behavior at work (running to the
bathroom crying, withdrawing from co-workers, glaring at families with
babies...) or to save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation.

As
you're healing, sometimes being a birthmother defines you and you
scrutinize every acquaintance, wondering if or when you should tell
them. Sometimes telling others isn't an option, sometimes even your
family never knows, and you're forced to deal with your grief inwardly.
And there is grief. So much grief. Sadly, the grief may be disabling and
destroying when there isn't support and guidance on how to heal
properly.

And then someday you may have children again, and all you can
do is compare to your last pregnancy. Sometimes you're overcome with
unexplainable fear or feelings of detachment, as though you only know
how to deal with a joyous pregnancy through coping strategies.

And
on top of all of it, you get to deal with judgmental and inappropriate
comments from people who have never been in your shoes or even heard
your story.

Some people are supportive, and
yes good things happen after an adoption: I took care of my education
and cleaned up my act. Why? Because I told myself I never wanted to take
advantage of the decision I had made. I wanted R to be proud of me. I
wanted him to see that it wasn't in vain - not for him, not for me.

Whether parenting or adoption is chosen, there will be
hardship, there will be downs, there will be ups, smiles and tears,
rewards and heartbreak. Neither of them are easy, both come with costs and hardship. Even as a birthmother, I still only intimately know
my own situation, and I can't throw out the blanket statement that says
adoption is always or never the answer. Truly, we cannot judge each
other so blindly.

But I can say, placing your child with an adoptive family is not the easy way out.
Or, to quote The Happiest Sad: "It’s not easy and it’s not an out."

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About BirthMom Buds

BirthMom Buds is an organization and website that provides peer counseling, support, encouragement, and friendship to pregnant women considering adoption as well as women who have already placed children for adoption.